


Writings from the Wood - Tolkien Reader Inserts

by kaclydid



Series: Writings from the Wood [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Love, Love Confessions, Other, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-03-24 05:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13804527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaclydid/pseuds/kaclydid
Summary: A collection of Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit reader inserts. Posting from henceforth all in one collection to try to de-clutter my accounts. Chapter specific tags to be added.





	1. A Kiss for Frodo - Frodo x Reader

**Author's Note:**

> I was getting tired of all the one shots on my account, so from here on out, all my lord of the rings and hobbit reader inserts will be here. Longer fics will still get their own posting. Hope you enjoy!

You sat under the tree, green grass and wildflowers blowing softly in the breeze. You were content to sit there all day,long into the evening, until you lost the light of day to read by. Then you’d pick up your book and blanket and head home to start supper and nighttime chores, always passing by the same house, where an older Hobbit would be smoking a pipe by his fireplace, his nephew watching you longingly as you passed on a friendly “Good evening”.

On the days when Frodo and his friends, Merry, Pippin, and Sam were running around the Shire, they’d sometimes come across the soft scene of you sitting there, nose in a book. And after many doe-eyed looks and nervous ‘how-do-you-do’s’, the other hobbits were beginning to poke fun at Frodo’s pining interest in you.

It was complete happenstance that you ended up, beside Pippin and Merry, on the road, following after Frodo and Sam. It was an adventure you had only ever read of in your books - the twinkling cascades of water in the valley of Imladris, the carved wooden halls, the elves and their music as the company stood about the courtyard.

You shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but you had stepped up alongside Frodo’s friends to pledge your allegiance to help in whatever way you could. Frodo felt a blush form and he looked away abruptly, up to Gandalf, Pippin would later say to you.

You had proven yourself rather useful on the quest. You helped in anything except weilding a sword - cleaning wounds, cooking, stoking a small fire for the meal preparation and nothing more before snuffing it out once more. You knew the basics of surviving in the open, and were content to learn anything and everything you could.

You found yourself having conversations whenever you could with the others. Boromir told you of his travels, Gimli told you of his father and dwarven history, Legolas was quiet, but you spoke of the arrowheads he was sharpening one night as he sat down for a brief moment of rest. Merry and Pippin stayed by your side during meals, and travel times. The small laughter they pulled from you always drawing the gaze of Frodo from ahead of you.

Sam had mentioned Frodo wanting to speak with you like the others but too afraid to. And Merry and Pippin had told Frodo the same of you. As the information returned back to you a few days later, you had blushed and scrubbed at the mud caked cloak in the river.

Boromir chuckled as Pippin plopped down beside him. Everyone - well, everyone except for Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli - was watching with bated breath as you and Frodo talked softly amongst yourselves beside the fire you were tending. Your heads were bowed close together, and your short chuckles drifted through the air every now and then like music.

“Why don’t they just kiss already and get it over with?” Merry laughed, picking at a piece of the apple he was eating.

“They’ve been dancing around each other since the start,” Sam added. “Even back home, Master Frodo never talked to her much.”

“Yes, well,” Pippin laughed, sitting forward. “It’s about time they did, isn’t it?”

It wasn’t until weeks later that you found yourself blushing harder than ever before, Frodo at your side. You stared after the dwarf as he started towards Legolas at the front of the group, his laughter echoing over his shoulder as he did.

“Just kiss already!” he had groaned, pushing between you and Frodo with a not so graceful shove. His boots squelched in the mud along the river, splashing the water up and over your legs as he walked by.

You stopped mid stride, standing calf deep in the cool water as you watched Gimli walk away. Frodo had stopped to, blush on his own face, eyes diverted to the clear water below him.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled your cloak further around your shoulders, and started forward once more. Pausing as you reached Frodo where he still stood contemplating the pebbles in the water, you reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before stepping back and picking up your pace as you followed the group on.


	2. True Love's Kiss - Thorin x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin doesn't survive the Battle of Five Armies. During the funeral, Reader kisses the King as a final goodbye.

You had watched with bated breath as the dwarves had carried his body back into the cavernous halls of Erebor. You had stood beside the wall, hands wringing the bandages and spare linens you had been fiddling with as you watched Fili and Kili lay their uncle down on the cot at the end of the hall. You had felt your heart shatter into a billion pieces as you noticed Thorin’s hand fall limply to the side, over the edge of the cot.

Your feet moved without thought, pulling you towards the spot where the dwarf of your affections lay, motionless. The bandages fell to the floor, slipping through your fingers, and forgotten underfoot as your pace quickened.

Fili was the first to notice you, turning away from his uncle with tears glistening in his eyes as Dwalin and Balin stayed by Thorin’s side. The young prince’s - no, he was the king now, you had to push the thought away - held your upper arms, forcing you to physically turn away from the scene before you.

“No,” you managed, voice weak and barely audible to even yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Fili started.

You didn’t hear him, you didn’t even hear the groans and cries of pain coming from the hall of wounded dwarves and men behind you. Everything seemed to stop all at once. With Fili holding your arms still, you strained your neck to look over your shoulder to where Thorin lay.

“No,” you repeated, shaking your head vigorously as you wrenched yourself from Fili’s grip to start towards the cot. You only made it a few steps before your tears overflowed, and what was left of your heart fell into your stomach.

There was too much blood. Too motionless, oh so motionless …

You stood there, trying to will yourself to look someplace else, to Balin or Dwalin, or one of the princes - no, Fili would be King now …

You needed a distraction, something to do with your hands. Turning away from Thorin’s body, forcing yourself to take a deep, steadying breath, you looked to Kili, noticing him nursing a few wounds he had received during the battle.

Stepping forward, chin held as high as you could manage, you placed a hand on the youngest dwarf’s shoulder. “Come on, then,” you mumbled, cocking your head to motion towards the small side room set aside as a surgery. It was empty, but the prince deserved a bit of privacy.

Kili looked up to Dwalin, and then over to his brother before stumbling to his feet. As he did, you heard the screech of wood on stone as the cot Thorin’s body was laid out on was moved by Dwalin and Fili, towards one of the antechambers off the main hall.

“I’m sorry.” Kili’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts as you tied the bandage together around his upper arm, busying yourself with washing off the blood on your hands in the bowl beside you. “Fili and I … we tried to … we knew you’d …”

“Don’t,” you managed, raising your gaze just enough to meet Kili’s. “You don’t have to … he did what he always had … stood up for you … protected us,” you murmured, voice wet as tears threatened once more.

There was a long moment of silence as you set about tidying your work space, letting Kili return his shirtsleeve to its proper position. “What happens now?” the young dwarf asked as you stood near the table at the other side of the small room, back towards him.

Shoulders and head dropping once more as tears fell down your cheeks, you shook your head back and forth, forcing yourself to at least answer Kili. “I don’t know,” you answered truthfully as you turned back to him.

It took you a few moments to realize Kili had crossed the room and wrapped you in a hug, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting the sobs take over. “He loved you,” Kili murmured, running a hand over your back.

“He’s dead,” you sobbed back, relishing in the hug as Kili let you cry.

***

The Company had decided on having a full formal funeral service, men, elves, and dwarves all in attendance to pay respects to the lost King Under the Mountain. You couldn’t bring yourself to attend any of the meetings afterward, the awkward small talk that came from Bard or the Company. You couldn’t even handle Kili as he stood at your side, his brother looking so strong as he stood off to the side. All you wanted to do was cry.

You sat in the hall, staring at the coffin of the dwarf you had grown close to - so close, in fact, it was usually called love - tears falling silently down your cheeks as the company sat around you, all paying their last respects to their King.

The hall had emptied, leaving only Thorin’s company and you to grieve. Even Dis had left, unable to control her own grief for the loss of her brother. A few of the company mumbled stories to one another, recounting tales and adventures they had partaken with Thorin. You didn’t hear Fili tell any, but Kili had managed to garner a few laughs from a tale he had told, and Bilbo had practically caused a fresh wave of tears as he murmured something about planting an oak tree in Thorin’s honor once returning to the shire.

A few chuckles were heard after that, mingled with “a tree as stubborn as he is” and other such sayings.

After a while the group had started to quiet, all shifting towards the door and passing you, sitting alone near the back of the room, sympathetic looks. As Balin walked past you, Fili and Kili at his heels, heads bowed, you stood, the stool scratching against the floor at the movement, and stepped around the dwarves heading for the door.

Thorin lay in the open viewing casket, sword held in his hands and crown atop his head. He looked peaceful you had to admit, but the damage Azog had done to him was much more than just a bad dream. It was real. Thorin was dead, laying in front of you.

You heard the shuffling boots of the company stall behind you, the room falling eerily silent as you stepped forward, placing a hand tentatively over Thorin’s clasped hands on top of the sword hilt they had placed with him. Too cold, not sleeping, you reminded yourself with a small hiccough of a sob escaping you. 

For a moment, you stood there, staring at his face, silently willing his eyes to open, showing those bright blue eyes you could get lost in whenever he had spoke to you. You wanted to see his smile, the small curl of his lips on one side as he tried to hide the expression. You wanted to wrap your arms around his neck, bury your nose in his hair, and just hold him. You wanted him alive.

“Rest in peace, my King,” you murmured, leaning over slightly, stopping as you stared at his stoic face. Biting your lip in a hesitant breath, you leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cold lips before pushing away and turning away from the casket.

Bilbo was closest to you as you joined the group at the end of the hall. Fili and Kili at your sides as a group hug was initiated, pulling everyone in by their shoulders or shoving them closer with an elbow to the ribs, Dwalin wrapped his arms around you and the princes as a calm washed over you.

The sniffling, crying, prayers were silenced as a noise broke from the other side of the room. A shifting of metal against stone, of a sword against the edge of a casket. A voice hoarse from disuse, almost lost, perhaps thought of as just an illusion, pulled all the gazes of the group.

Thorin had shifted. His sword laid against the edge of the casket now. You pushed away from the others as you heard the small whisper of your name come from the dwarf that was supposed to be dead. And then it came again, this time a different name, and Balin stepped forward.

Another murmur, and you felt Kili nudge you forward.

Looking over your shoulder to Balin, who gave you a look that said he had no idea what was going on, nodded you forward as a whispered version of your name came once more, followed by a deep cough.

Which had you running towards the casket to find Thorin trying to roll to his side, hands braced against the blankets laying under him. He saw you coming, and opened his arm as you threw yourself into his embrace with a cry of “You’re alive!”

“He’s alive!” Kili repeated, grabbing his brother’s shoulder.

“Thorin’s alive!” came a chorus of dwarves from behind you.

“Please, don’t give up on me,” you murmured, nuzzling your nose into Thorin’s neck as he held you, one arm around your shoulders as he held himself up on his other elbow. “Don’t ever … don’t leave me again.”

“Never, my love,” he murmured back, taking a deep, shuddering breath.


	3. In Your Eyes - Legolas x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, an orphan working as a servant in the Woodland halls, has a fairly close relationship with the Prince. On one of your outings, confessions are made.   
> Alternatively titled: Legolas and Reader sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G (but not)~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request from Tumblr: "I'm sorry, what were you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes"

_“Climbing makes me feel free. Taller -- bigger -- than the poor little human girl with nothing to her name.”_ You had once said to the prince, on a free afternoon in the forest.

Now, Legolas chuckled as he watched you try to climb over the twisted trees and roots of the forest he called home. You had been trying to get to the same level of almost dancer-like grace that Legolas showed when he ran through the trees, your feet flying effortlessly over the branches.

But you weren't a graceful elf. Something you had been bitter about since taking on the role of servant in the woodland halls. And your feet didn't fly gracefully over the wooden gnarls of the large trees. Instead, your toe caught and sent you flying off balance, reaching frantically for the tree trunk in front of you to steady yourself.

Legolas chuckled once more, this one a bit louder so you could hear as he came up behind you, holding a hand out for you to take. “I am afraid you are going to hurt yourself,” he smiled. “Perhaps stick to climbing them?” he smirked, gaze flicking up to the tall tree.

You stuck your tongue out at him. Since you had arrived within the Woodland Realm, you had become fast friends with the Prince. He wasn't as stoic as his father, and you found that spending time with him put a smile on both of your faces. “I made it farther that time, at least!” You smiled triumphantly as you looked down to the knot that had trapped your foot on the log.

“Yes, you did,” he nodded. “At the cost of almost hurting yourself.”

You huffed, brushing off your hands as you looked up at the tree in front of you. You knew at least that you could climb a tree with ease - albeit still not as graceful as the elves, but whatever. You launched yourself up, grabbing hold of the branch above you and kicked your feet out, scrambling up to a branch two above the one you had started at.

Legolas looked up at you, shaking his head with a smile. “And what have you in mind for this afternoon?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, a race is out of the question,” you huffed, hefting yourself onto a higher branch and looking down to him.

Legolas smiled fondly up at you. “Unless you wish to end up flat on the dirt, yes,” he chuckled.

You smiled back, but felt the flush on your cheeks at his words. “Not like it’s a rare sight,” you mumbled.

“Do not put yourself down,” Legolas chuckled back, obviously having heard your low remark. “You looked happy a moment ago.”

“And I no longer look happy?” you asked, leaning over a branch as you straddled it, looking down to Legolas still standing on the dirt of the forest floor.

Legolas didn’t answer, just stepped forward and started climbing up the branches, faster and much more graceful than you had. Settling on a branch beside you, the prince cocked his head to the side in thought. “Are you sure you are not of my kin?” he joked, brushing your hair away from your ear. “You’re climbing has gotten faster.”

You smiled, shying away from his fingers as they brushed against your ear. “Just a human orphan,” you shrugged.

There was definitely a spark of friendship between the two of you, the entire guard could see it, and although you knew it would never be allowed, you felt something more akin to love for the elf. Which was also noted by a few of the servants and guards you worked with.

Looking up, mouth opening slightly to speak, you froze, noticing Legolas’s bright gaze staring intently at you, his features soft. You clapped your mouth shut and dropped your gaze, brushing hair behind your ear nervously.

“Do not think so low of yourself,” Legolas murmured, his gaze dropping to his bow as he rested it against his raised knee as he leaned against the trunk of the tree. “You are so much more.”

“I --” you stuttered. “It’s true, though. Your father and everyone here has been so helpful and I am eternally grateful for everything, but it’s true! I’m just a human orphan who has wandered into a place that’s sort of accepting of me,” you shrugged, turning to face him as you leaned your shoulder against the tree trunk.

Legolas glanced over to you, matching your pose as he adjusted in his seat only about a foot away from you. “I’m sorry,” he started, voice low as if he was deeply apologizing for something. “What were you saying?” he asked, more lighthearted than before, gaze once again on yours. “I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

The shock that went through you had you tightening your grip on the branch you were sat upon. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you countered, feeling as if those feelings he was trying to convey were nothing more than a friendly jest.

“You think I would joke about something like that?” he scoffed. “You are more than just an orphan who stumbled into my father’s halls. You are … sweet and kind,” he started as you started to adjust how you sat in your nervousness. “And if you fall from that branch with all your squirming, there is nothing I’d want more to do than help you up once more.”

You froze, hands placed flat against the branch as you stared over to the Prince. “I’m going to climb down before I fall,” you nodded, starting down.

Legolas swung down to the lower branch as you caught your balance, landing lightly on the forest floor and waiting patiently for you to finish your descent. As you dropped to the dirt, brushing off your hands as you turned towards him, you took a calming breath.

Standing before him, you bit your lip. “There’s … I’m a lowly servant, not even an elf, but I wish there was a way we could be more than friends,” you murmured, dropping your gaze to your boots.

“Perhaps something will come of it,” he murmured, stepping forward and offering his hand. “Until then, meleth, perhaps we should head back for the day.”

You had heard the elvish sentiment in the halls, and knew enough of the language to understand what it meant, but still you flushed, ducking your head down as you let Legolas take your hand.

“I would like that,” you responded, looking up to him.


	4. His One - Thorin x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Thorin agreed your duties were to great to leave with him on his quest for Erebor. After the battle, after months of waiting, Thorin is growing concerned - are you alive? Are you coming to the mountain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request on my tumblr @anari3l. Feel free to head over there and send requests or just say hi!
> 
> Totally not beta'd so excuse any errors.

You remembered the night he had told you he was leaving to reclaim his home. It was late, you were talking over hot wine in a small tavern, sitting comfortably near the fire. The two of you were the only ones in the building save for the servers, and found the silence calming. And each other’s presence the only thing that mattered.

Thorin had been by your side since you both were very young. You trained together for battle, you practiced against each other. You knew his family, had helped train his nephews. Had been privy to conversations with Dis about everything and anything as if the two of you were sisters. Thorin knew everything about you, and you knew everything about him.

You also knew you couldn’t argue with the steel-headed dwarf. He was going to go on a quest to regain your lost homeland, an land you barely remembered. He was taking his nephews, his friends, and yours as well. You knew there was no point in even trying to add your own name into the list for his company, he wouldn’t allow it.

And you knew you couldn’t leave your responsibilities. The guard needed you. And you weren’t sure you would even be able to up and leave anyway, no matter what sort of guardian you were.

On the morning of Thorin’s departure, you woke to an empty bed with a small note from Thorin laying atop your sword on the bench below the window. You went along with your duties, you worked, and kept your mind and heart open to the scenario you might never see Thorin again.

Weeks passed into months, and those feelings had returned once more. No matter how much of your life you lost yourself in - the talks with Dis which had become more somber since her brother and sons had left, the training yard which was now always quiet - nothing seemed to repair the gnawing feeling in your gut that Thorin and his Company had lost.

***

The dragon was dead. The Orc army defeated. Erebor was reclaimed. And Thorin still felt as if he was missing a final piece of his puzzle.

Travelers and refugees, dwarves from the Blue Mountains, and Iron Hills, had started to converge on the Mountain kingdom once more. The halls and alleys were lively in their internal glow, the forges once again hot and working. With each newcomer, Thorin asked after you.

After several months, Thorin had started to give up hope as well. His sister had returned to Erebor, greeting him and her sons with exuberant smiles, but she came with no knowledge of your whereabouts.

Thorin slept little after that night. Thoughts of you plagued his mind all day, forcing him to lie awake at night wondering if you were safe out there. In the mornings he kept reminding himself that you had a duty first, and that the love between the two of you had always come second to the duties the both of you had. You had known this upon his departure, but he was still grappling with that realization weeks after reclaiming the mountain.

Another few weeks passed and Balin returned with a small company of dwarves. But this time, Thorin thought you must surely be dead. For if you had been living, surely you would have made your way towards Erebor, or even met a passing caravan and given word to be sent. A raven. Something to tell him you were safe and still holding his heart.

“She is strong-willed,” Balin started, watching the dwarves as he stood beside Thorin one afternoon. “Strong-willed just like you. I have no doubt she is safe.”

Thorin forced a chuckle as he looked over to his advisor, smiling slightly at Balin’s large grin plastered on his features. “Then why hasn’t she —“

“She’s a capable fighter, no doubt we would have benefitted with her in the company, but she had her duties to attend to, just as you did,” Balin started, cutting Thorin off before his emotions took precedence over his thoughts. “She will come. You must be sure of that.”

The short conversation with Balin did little to help Thorin’s sleeping habits. The knowledge that you might have thrown yourself into your own work to keep from thinking about what might have happened at the Battle, tore his heart open.

It wasn’t until a messenger had stepped into the council chamber one dreary and wet morning, that Thorin let his hopes up once more. Balin sat to his right, Dis to his left, and Fili and Kili beside them. Upon the entrance of the young dwarf, his beard shorter than Kili’s had been upon leaving for Erebor, Thorin stood, the mere act sending the messenger into a bit awkward fumble as he straightened at the end of the council table.

“Terribly sorry to interrupt,” he started, speaking fast in case Thorin’s temper rose. “There is a traveler here … at the gates, I mean … claiming to be the King’s One.”

In an instant, ice overtook Thorin’s veins as he wondered if it could possibly be you. Dis had stood, looking to her brother with a wide smile. Balin cleared his throat, shooing the messenger away with a simple nod before turning to Thorin.

The room sat silent as Thorin stood, staring at the door. After a moment, Kili piped up. “You’re not just going to let her stand out there, are ya?” He joked.

You stood, hair wet and cloak doing little to repel the rain falling on your shoulders. Your sword was on your hip, your shoulders straight as a soldiers, and your body fatigued from travel.

When Thorin pushed his way past some guards and stood before you, you couldn’t help but smile, a tear forming in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” you started, “I had a few run-ins —“

Your words were cut off as Thorin had dragged you into his embrace, his lips finding your damp hair. You felt him take in a shaky inhale, applause and murmurs erupting from some of the bystanders watching. Fili and Kili had been slower than their uncle, but as Thorin stepped away, looking you over as if he wasn’t sure you were really their, the Princes ran forward, wrapping you in a tight group hug.

“Amralime,” Thorin murmured, taking your hand in his. “Welcome home.”

You smiled brightly up at him, relishing in the feeling of his calloused hand in your much smaller one.


End file.
